Chapter 64 — Miraculous

At our private English Center here in Vietnam, there are about a dozen teachers from the Philippines, mostly women. Many of them had already come here during their university degree program to complete a mandatory practicum. One or two of the batch we received every year were pretty cute, but it was an unwritten law that starting any form of relationship with those young damsels was taboo.

The salaries were higher on the Philippines than here in Vietnam, but as the cost of living was so much higher there, many young interns eventually came back to work for us for another few years until they felt they should get married. Looking for a Vietnamese boyfriend or husband didn’t seem an option for the Filipinas, although we actually have had one of them marry a good-looking Vietnamese dentist, but she was an exception.

Mira was one of those who had come back. As an intern, she had often worn a fancy red skirt that ended above her knees. I had often admired her cute little legs from afar; Mira often stood with her legs crossed and one foot beyond the other, swaying and holding her books in her bent left arm in front of her when she was listening. She was as cute as they come.

‘Mira’ was pronounced in some Faux-French way—meeRA—but I didn’t think it was her real name. But that didn’t matter, as she was adorable, outgoing, and endearing. She had thin lips and a broad, winning, kinda impish smile while her voice—just like her butt—resembled that of a pubescent boy. Her bosom was also slim and shallow—but, all in all, she was a beguiling and titillating young woman with a gorgeous face, who could infuse whole classrooms with energy. She also had a sense of humor, and with her sparkling personality, she could sway everyone: She did aerobics with the kids and played games with them, sang, and danced—in short, everybody loved her.

Because of the Covid-19 crisis, three young Filipinas hadn’t been able to get back to Vietnam after their vacation in March, so that Mira now had a room to herself. As our school had been forced to remain closed from February to early May, many Filipinas had started teaching online, which they didn’t wanna give up when our English center reopened again. As a result, they were all ridiculously busy. Just like in so many other cultures around the world, Filipinas were expected to send money home to support their family.

For this reason—and, possibly, others—I hadn’t seen Mira much over the last few months, even though we both taught in the same building, where she also lived. Our new school was L-shaped: eight or nine teachers were living in the shorter wing. To meet her ‘coincidentally’ at least, I had gotten in the habit of going up the stairwell in the teachers’ quarters to get to the fridge on the fourth floor, where I taught. I always had a few things in that refrigerator to get me through the day. Sometimes, I had been able to smile and nod at Mira, and twice we had even struck up a brief conversation.

Mira’s tender figure—with her small bosom and her little butt—was tantalizing. She must have been 23 by now and had finished her degree. However, her affability and openness, which had endeared me so much during her internship, were gone. Yeah, I knew she was working a lot, but there must have been more, I thought. One doesn’t become a recluse just from working a lot. Kind of unrelated, she was also wearing light-blue braces now, even though I couldn’t see anything that was wrong with her teeth. Well, perhaps, she viewed that thing as a fashion accessory.

Two or three weeks ago, I had seen Mira cooking in the kitchen on her floor, as I had been walking up the stairs in the teacher section of the building again. She had heard me approaching and had turned around to greet me, before she focused to her food again. Her old, purple polo-shirt and her ageing jogging pants hadn’t looked too hot, but she was at home here. I had also noticed how pale she was but, at least, her smile had been as scintillating as ever.

Now she had, apparently, even closed her Facebook account, so that no new pictures were going to come. Only, maybe, a few that the other Filipinas took with her. Bummer. Mira did have a boyfriend, which I only knew though since she had once refused to play volleyball with us to skype with him. Perhaps he had broken up with her, and now she was feeling down?

Last Monday, I went up the teachers’ staircase through the kitchens on each floor again, even though I could have gone up in the school and then walked past the classrooms on the fourth floor to get to said kitchen. But the sheer possibility of seeing and chatting briefly with Mira was like a magnet. Of course, I thought of Mira right away when I entered the staircase on the ground floor, but the first person I saw was our young colleague Elizabeth, who was on her way down. She was wearing tight sports shorts, and her smooth, long thighs looked absolutely delish. Eliz was a little taller and more womanly than Mira, possibly just as attractive, but somehow illegal bahis I found Mira hotter, perhaps even because she had a few androgynous features. Or because she was petite. Still, it was awesome to have seen Eliz’s naked thighs for once.

Anyway, between the second and the third floor, I heard cooking noises: some clanking of pots and pans. The food smelled better than usual, like some kind of curry. When I got to the third floor, I saw that it was Mira who was cooking. This time, she didn’t hear me, though, so I cleared my throat. I’m not sure if she heard me or if it was coincidence, but she switched off the cooker and looked to her left, and so she eventually saw me from the corner of her eye. She poured what was in the small, flat pan into the larger iron-cast one next to it, stirred everything briefly with a wooden spoon, and let me take a look.

I wasn’t going to teach for another hour, and since I had been clamoring a chance like this for months, I stepped closer, smiled at her, leaned forward and snatched a whiff of the delicacy. I complimented her of the fragrance her food was spreading around the building, and we looked at each other for about five seconds without saying anything. Finally, she took her earphones out and switched off the music.

“Hey, this smells great,” I said. “What’s it called?”

She told me some name in Tagalog, which I forgot as soon as she had said it. But when I looked closer again, she explained that it was some sort of national dish in the Philippines.

“It’s basically a curry with pork, potatoes, and carrots.”

There were a few awkward seconds now, but when I turned to continue my ascend to the fourth floor, she hastily said:

“Mister Ben! I’ve cooked for Sandrea and myself, but now she has a one-on-one all of a sudden. I don’t know why. Do you want to eat together?”

Sandrea was another young Filipina, who was a year younger than Mira. I had had lunch already, of course, but this was a chance I couldn’t pass on. After all, I could always eat a small bowl of good food, couldn’t I?

“Ok, sure. But just a little bit. I’m still full from lunch earlier …”

Mira nodded like she would not have accepted a ‘no’ anyway and began to set the table here in the kitchen. But then she changed her mind and asked me if I didn’t want to go to her room and eat there.

“If we eat here, someone might see us,” she explained.

Well, I didn’t see where the problem would be if a colleague or the cleaning lady saw us eating together here in the kitchen but, then, being alone with Mira in her room was clearly the better option.

“Well, whatever you prefer,” I said nonchalantly, like I didn’t care much either way, and slung my bag over my shoulder to be able to carry a few things.

She immediately handed me bowls, plates, and silverware, while she took the hot pan and a table mat. She walked past me to poke her head out to check if the coast was clear, then turned around and motioned me with her chin to follow her quickly. We walked the few yards to her door across the balcony but I didn’t think anyone saw us. She pointed at the unlocked padlock, which I removed to let us in.

Since she had been in this room all by herself for months, it wasn’t very neat. But still charming. She grabbed some underwear that was on the back of a chair and tossed it inside her wardrobe. We were going to sit down at the foot end of the bed, I thought, as there was a table, where I now put the bowls and cutlery, before I looked around a bit.

The rooms of the teachers resembled the classrooms, right down to the color-scheme, windows, curtains, and doors. Our boss was certainly hoping to turn the teachers’ quarters into classrooms one day, but the whole Covid-19 problem had put a huge dent in the English-business in Vietnam. Anyway, Mira asked me to sit down on the bed and went briefly back to the kitchen to fetch the rice. When she got back, she sat down next to me and filled my bowl.

Strangely, her hair was gelled and hanging down from her head in wisps, which looked surprisingly good, though. But I still couldn’t get over the fact that she was wearing light-blue braces now. I honestly couldn’t see why; her teeth were close to perfect as they were. But I didn’t want to ask her about it; perhaps she would be embarrassed.

Mira was perhaps still, deep inside her, the outgoing, feisty dare-devil that she had been when I met her three years earlier, and so I wasn’t worried that we wouldn’t be able to find some topic to talk about. And, yes, as soon as we started to eat, she sputtered and bubbled, going on about every topic imaginable. She talked about her online-teaching, her young students here at our school—I only taught older ones—and even her president Duterte, who I had inquired about once, about a year back.

“You like it?” she asked, pointing at the food.

“Lovely. Excellent,” I replied, munching.

I took another half-a-bowl, as delicious as it was, but also wondered if her torrent of words wasn’t covering up one or more illegal bahis siteleri things that she didn’t want to divulge. Sure, she must have been happy that she had someone here who didn’t know her stories but I found it curious that she hadn’t mentioned her boyfriend yet, for instance. Now, there was a turn in our conversation, during which she asked me about my family, before she went on to talk about the Corona-virus situation in the Philippines.

While she was talking, I had ample opportunity to take a closer look at her. Like I said, she had thin lips, an elegant mouth, and pronounced jaws. I liked her ears, too. Her hair was gelled, like I just said; it looked like it was wet. Her dark-green glasses were hot, actually, which I told her right way. She smiled, thanked me, but then continued her flood of words. But she knew how to tell stories charmingly, and her eyes were glistening. Everything was delightful, including her English. As far as I knew, many schools in the Philippines teach the whole curriculum in English, so that students become quasi-bilingual over time.

But now I couldn’t hold back anymore and asked her directly why she had become such a recluse. She stopped her flow of words instantly, like she had expected—or even hoped—that I would ask her that.

“Well, you know, there are two, actually three reasons.”

I didn’t respond but would wait until she had explained herself a little more.

“First of, I work quite a bit at the moment, as you know …”

I nodded to encourage her to tell me more but immediately thought to myself that working a lot usually doesn’t make one introverted.

“Yeah, I know, you have your whole online program. But, to be frank, there’s gotta be something else,” I said jovially to ease her up.

“Well, do you actually know that Caroline and I were—or are—a couple?!”

I swallowed with my mouth closed. Caroline was her ex-roommate who was stuck in the Philippines. Since our school had been closed in spring, Caroline and two others had taken a month-long vacation at home, but now they were still unable to return to Vietnam. Caroline was incredibly pretty and very slim, but she still had a roundish butt, which she had liked to parade around the school in grey leggings.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were together … How convenient!” I joked. “You were sharing a bed from the beginning.”

I had always found it remarkable that young Filipinas preferred sharing a bed to getting their own room, like they were either afraid of the dark or just wanted to cuddle. Or have sex?

“Yeah, sure, we slept here in this bed together from the get-go, but at first we were like friends. But then I fell in love with her. I miss her more than I have ever missed any of my boyfriends,” Mira admitted.

Ok. She just said it. Initially, I was tempted to ask her more about her boyfriend, but in the end, the story of Mira and Caroline was hotter and more piquant, partially because I knew and liked Carol and found her beautiful. Of course, I instantly envisioned the two of them here naked on the bed.

“Yeah, it’s kinda infuriating, isn’t it? We would love to have the three of them back as we need teachers,” I said first, since I was partly in charge of the hiring here at our school. But then I added: “It must have been beautiful to hold each other here after a long day of work …”

After Mira had murmured ‘not only after work’, she turned quiet. She sat up on one of her thighs like the Little Mermaid. Since she was now behind me, I lied down on my back—as full as I was from the awesome food. But then my phone rang, and when I picked it up, the reception staff told me that my one-on-one had been cancelled. When I told Mira, she smiled:

“Well, that gives us some more time. I only gotta work at half past 5. Let me clean the table and go to the bathroom.”

She piled the dishes into each other and took off.

“I’ll be right back,” she hollered from the door.

“Do you want me to help you with anything?” I yelled, but she was already gone.

I lied back down, with my feet still on the floor at the foot end of the bed. I stared at the ceiling, asking myself if Mira would mind me making myself so comfortable. But, technically, I wasn’t really touching her sheets, as the bedspread was on. When she came back, she did the Little Mermaid once more, and we continued our conversation.

“Well, Mira, be frank: You told us about your boyfriend, who’s in the Navy … and, now, Caroline. You … you … are …?”

“Yeah, I’m bisexual,” she laughed. “If that’s what you wanna ask.”

I nodded. “Yes, sure … but, to be honest, I had always suspected that,” I told her truthfully.

“Oh, really?”

Now, I knew that one can’t just look at people and tell their sexual orientation. But with Mira here I had always been pretty certain.

“Well, your voice and your body are somewhat boyish, aren’t they?” I told her, even though she probably knew that already.

“Yeah, my parents always said I’m a boy manqué,” she laughed canlı bahis siteleri again.

Frankly, I had actually asked myself a few times if Mira didn’t have a dick, since Ladyboys are relatively common in this part of the world. And then, also, because of her voice, which did resemble a pubescent boy’s. Sure, at first glance, Mira was a beautiful young woman, but that’s what I had thought of some of the various Ladyboys I had met during my seven years in Southeast Asia. I thought briefly of the girl or young lad I had met at my young niece’s house two months back. But he was definitely more masculine; he was thin but had well-developed, muscular, male legs, for instance. Of course, I couldn’t ask Mira directly if she had a little dick, as we didn’t know each other well, and I had no indication that she would share such intimate details with me.

Actually, I didn’t know at all if Mira wanted to discuss sexual matters with me, an older male colleague who was her superior in some ways here at the school. But, on the other hand: with whom could she discuss those things?! Certainly not with her straight-laced Filipino colleagues, who were all staunch Catholics and believers in Jesus.

“Is Caroline also bisexual?” I asked innocently but, I hoped, understandably.

Mira shook her head.

“No, for her it was more like friendship with benefits, I guess. And the opportunity to explore that kind of thing: We slept together … we had the room together and changed in front of each other anyway. And I was always the more active part … I think she has a boyfriend now, in the Philippines. I don’t even know what we’ll do when she comes back here, to Vietnam. Anyway, she always enjoyed our tender loveplay. But, yes, she rarely initiated it, which was alright, though, since I like being proactive.”

I nodded, since I kinda knew that, and I could see her initiate sex with Caroline. They complemented each other nicely, actually.

“But, once in a while, you still hanker for a man, don’t you?” I asked her more directly now, so that we wouldn’t lose momentum.

I didn’t know if I would ever have the chance again to ask such questions. And I also liked taking the initiative.

“Yeah, yeah,” she assured me. “I had a boyfriend all through college, who accepted my ‘other side’.”

She had drawn the quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

“I always kept it separate, though. But sometimes I think I only look for boyfriends to cover up the fact that I’m strongly drawn towards women,” she admitted after a few seconds. “You know how Catholics are …” she added.

I nodded and wanted to draw more out of her about this particular point, but then the sheer sexual aspects of Mira’s whole story kept the upper hand. As interesting as the embeddedness of Mira’s sex-life in the norms and mores of her culture and religion was: it had to wait.

“Mira, you let me know if I’m too nosey, but: You and Caroline had ‘real sex’, didn’t you?”

This time, I had drawn the punctuation in the air, but what may have sounded like doubt on my part, was actually the encouragement to divulge more about the sexual encounters with our young and enthralling colleague.

Mira looked at me with a mocking smile: “I’m not sure what is ‘real sex’ for you but, let me tell you, it could get quite wild. Do you know what we liked the best?! Licking each other between our legs … our pussies. I often sat on Caroline’s face, and then we kicked off …”

Wow! Imagining the two damsels riding each other and rolling around in bed naked boosted my erection and brought my blood to boil. Initially, I had been afraid that I had affected her honor, but Mira didn’t bear grudges and actually seemed to be gaining momentum:

“The whole thing started one night when we were in bed here but couldn’t sleep, even though we were thoroughly exhausted. I had put my hand on her belly but then, maybe one button on her PJ’s wasn’t closed, I pushed my hand inside and felt her soft, warm, heaving belly. I don’t know … but it was like electricity. The sparks were flying everywhere, and we clicked. We kissed and petted and then took our clothes off …”

In my mind’s eye, I saw the two of them naked, intertwined here on the bed, of course, and my arousal went up another two levels. Caroline was intriguingly beautiful—with her long legs, her roundish butt, and her marvelous face—while Mira’s spunkiness provided the catalyst for their sensual relationship. I also thought of Nguyet, Tuyet, and Tina briefly, who—even though none of them was bisexual—had experienced utmost pleasures from the several naked encounters they had had with each other, because their bodies were universally attractive and their souls were open to erotic exploration. My erection was already substantial, but as I was wearing comfortable dress pants, there was quite a bit of room before Mira would detect the inevitable.

Of course, I didn’t want to stop this conversation and asked: “And from then on you just slept naked?”

“Mostly,” Mira laughed. “We also showered together and gave each other orgasms over in the bathroom. And, yes, we walked around naked here in the room, too. It’s so warm eight months out of the year, and neither of us likes using the A/C …” she explained, almost apologizing.



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